cyle talley

Memory

She remembers when they went on more than one date a month. That there was a time in which they would have more than one date a week, & would still want desperately to see each other during any spare pockets of time in between. She remembers when he held open doors; when he wore clean, dark jeans & paired them with shirts that didn’t have team logos on them & shoes that weren’t sneakers, & complimented her on things she hadn’t known a man could notice. She still smiles when she recalls that he used the correct word upon seeing her grandmother’s abalone barette, & did not say, as another man once had, “Nice hair clip.”

She remembers when they used to talk through entire meals, when he would lean into her words like they were a coastal breeze, smiling occasionally & nodding, furrowing his brow, asking thoughtful qualifying questions. She remembers when he made her feel brilliant for every little thing that she did.

He remembers when she still wanted him to touch her

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